Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, in the powerful presence of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum; and when the Sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit...

Isn't it intriguing that Jesus finds the man with an unclean spirit in the middle of a place dedicated to worship? At first, it may seem surprising. What is such a person doing in the house of God? Perhaps he had become aware of the trouble that seized his soul, and had dragged himself to a place that offered respite, if not healing. Or, did he think that he might find others similarly possessed with whom he might find shared familiarity with evil? Whatever the circumstance, that Jesus encounters this man in the synagogue raises the question of where we might find unclean spirits within our congregation.

There are many possibilities. Unclean spirits are still not foreign to such places. Indeed, one of the appropriate images of the church is of, not a club for saints, but a hospital for sinners. A diversity of the spirits of evil may be found within the walls of churches. Maliciousness, slander, jealousy, anger, hostility, ageism, sexism, racism—to name a few. And the naming of our demons is so important. Evil is insidious, and one of the ways it begins to get the best of us is when we fail to identify those demons.

Yet, in the story before us, the situation is reversed. The demon names Jesus, and the man with the unclean spirit cries out, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God."

It's interesting that the recognizing and naming of Jesus by the demon is connected with the story about Jesus teaching with authority. Indeed, it may be that preaching and teaching the word of God ought to evoke exactly this type of response. It ought to bring the evil spirits to the point that they can't take it any longer. It ought to bring us to the point that we can identify the demons that are troubling us. If the church is to heal such afflictions, the Word is our medicine.

But before we get to the matter of naming, we have some problems to overcome. We simply don't talk much about demons any more. The modern mind isn't very comfortable with the idea of demons, but they're with us nonetheless. As a society, it is arguable that we are more possessed than ever. People are in crisis when their stocks fall. Or when their house is being repossessed by the bank. About their retirement accounts. About who will win today the Superbowl. About their weight. Or simply by their new car. Certainly, we have legitimate concerns in life, but when they take over our lives, when they occupy our minds, we can become possessed.

Anne Rice, as you probably know, writes stories about vampires. What you may not know it that the idea of vampires developed out of Christian ideas. In the Christian story, Christ sheds his blood for the life of the world. Vampires suck the life blood out of people.

Now, I'm not telling you that from the pulpit to gross you out. This little insight about vampires suggests what I consider a rather apt definition of how we might think of demons today. Demons are those things that suck the life out of us and give nothing back. (Aha!, p. 24)

And so, we might ask ourselves this morning what is it that so occupies our hearts, minds, or spirits that it sucks the life out of us and gives nothing back. Such a question might help with the challenge of naming.

Walter Bruggeman wrote an article called "The Myth of Scarcity." Such a myth is one of the powers that drives our society towards consumerism—it has possessed us. We have created a system that imagines that those who have money rule. We think of the world in terms that set people against one another in a struggle to obtain goods, believing that if someone else beats us to the punch, we will lose out. We've made the world into a place that actually invites demonic activity.

Still, we're often afraid to name our demons because we depend on them. We need to name them boldly.

Work can be one, of course. When someone works 60 or 70 hours a week and spends no time with their family, there is a demon present. They may be able to do a lot of good, contribute well to charities, afford good schools for their children, but the demon is there nonetheless.

Even religion can become ingrown and demonic. Here's a little joke I found that makes my point for me.

I was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump off. So I ran over and said, "Stop! Don't do it!"

"Why shouldn't I?" he said.

"Well, there's so much to live for."

"Like what?"

"Well, are you religious?"

He said yes.

I said, "Me, too! Are you Christian or Buddhist?"

"Christian."

"Me, too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?"

"Protestant."

"Me, too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?"

"Baptist."

"Wow, me, too! Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?"

"Baptist Church of God!"

"Me, too! Are you original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?"

"Reformed Baptist Church of God."

"Me, too! Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915?"

He said, "Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915!"

I said, "Die, heretic," and pushed him off. (Emo Philips, "Laugh at these jokes or we'll shoot the receptionist," GQ, June 1999, 251)

When religion so perverts the gospel, is has lost its power to give life. It has become demonic.

Food too can be demonic, but this is one that we might be able to say some of us are trying to exorcise. I noticed in the Herald-Times this week a picture of a young woman working out. Every January, the article noted, sees a large increase in folks using the "Y" and other places to get in shape. New Year's resolutions strike again!

One can look at nearly any magazine devoted to women or fashion and see within its pages directly contradictory images. One often sees a slim young model clad in minimum yardage next to or near a picture of a rich dessert and a banner announcing the newest diet fad. How do we survive such profoundly mixed messages? How can we take this kind of tragic idiocy seriously? How is it that such magazines continue to prosper?

The answer, of course, has to do with the preoccupations of our lives that prevent the use of good sense. It has to do with the demons that suck the blood out of our lives and give nothing in return. Food fetishes. The idolatry of beauty, of thinness, of body sculpting (whether from intense exercise or liposuction and plastic surgery), or of the latest diet.

By combining our food-fixated culture with our technology fascinations we strive to create the perfect outer self rather than honor the unique creation of God that we are. Our culture works feverishly to convince us that a slimmed and firmed body, with the right diet and the best makeover, will exorcise those demons that hound our souls and grind down our spirits—and we buy it, and everything required to achieve it. We invest billions in diets and diet foods of various kinds. And still we pray, "Lead-us-not-into-Baskin-Robbins or Brusters" prayers, imagining that a diet technology of salvation will ease us into beauty, truth, and goodness, not to mention slimness.

This very focus on external, artificial, sleek solutions to our self-image problems only serves to provide food for our demons to remain with us rather than starve them out. Eating disorders such a bulimia and anorexia. Even prestigious sports diseases—tennis players get "Tennis Toe" and "Tennis Elbow," surfers get "Surfer's Ear," skiers get "Skier's Knees"—are symptoms of a problem larger than the mere cult of thinness.

The drive to shape our bodies, to sculpt our selves, can serve to deny the importance of our relationship with the One who created us. The more we seek to recreate ourselves in Madison Avenue's perfect image, the less chance we will discover the true shape God intended for our bodies and our souls. Shaping the body and forming the spirit are very different tasks. We are not our own. God is the one who gives shape and form to life. God is the potter; we are the clay.

But who indeed are you, a human being, to argue with God? Will what is molded say to the one who molds it, "Why have you made me like this?" Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one object for special use and another for ordinary use? (Romans 9:20-21)

Regardless of the demons we might identify within and among us, here is the spiritual truth. When we are preoccupied with matters of little importance, we leave less room for the presence of the Holy Spirit. When we place some earthly matter front and center in our hearts, God gets shoved to the side or out of life entirely. When our lifeblood gets sucked out by the many competing vampire-demons of the world, the life-giving body and blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ finds no place to rest within us. We become empty vessels, broken potsherds, rather than holy vessels, filled with the abundant grace, life, and love of God.

Look into your heart today, and ask the question posed by the text. Where and what are the demons that possess you? What takes more life from you than it returns? Where are those places in the heart that yet need the redeeming voice of the Lord. Ask not "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?" Seek rather the words of Jesus for those things that keep you from full, complete, and abundant living: "Be silent, and come out!".  —  Amen.